Destined, 1x3 Disrespect Your Elders
by Twin-Swords
Summary: The brothers are given a task by the Elders, something that causes tensions run high. While trying to take care of their assignment, Chris winds up with a 'little' problem to deal with. Story Format.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** Let me check. Uh… nope. Save the confetti. Jen and I still don't own Charmed, Chris or Wyatt. We do own our original characters though and this story, which you are about to read. Hope you enjoy it!

**Author's Note:** This is the third episode of Destined: The Charmed Sons and I know some of you who aren't members of the "Destined" site have been waiting a while for us to begin posting this up here on _fanfiction_. So, without further adieu I'll just get to the Prologue for the episode. Enjoy!

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**Destined: The Charmed Sons**

**Episode 1.3, Disrespect Your Elders**

**Prologue**

"Take this," Joaquin Albenedo said with his Creole accent thick on his tongue. He was speaking to the dark haired young woman that moved behind him into the alley. He was a ruggedly handsome young man, though he might have been better looking if not for the small scar that twisted his mouth into a permanent scowl. A run-in with a warlock three years ago had left him with that as a reminder, right after the warlock had killed his sister. Joaquin passed her the small vial containing blue liquid. He kept one for himself. The alley that he and the young woman were in was in a recently renovated section of the French Quarter.

The woman took the vial and clutched it in her hand. Constance Rola and Joaquin were witches of the Willow Star coven. The two of them were working together tonight to track down a demon that had been terrorizing the area. They thought he was responsible for the disappearances of several tourists and this was where the scrying crystal had hit. "Joaquin, I'm not sure about this... we should have waited for Madelyne's approval..."

"That would take too long, chere," Joaquin said, peering around the corner, he ran his fingers through his short dark hair. Madelyne LeBeau was the High Priestess of their coven and ever since Joaquin's sister had been killed, being permitted to do any of the 'field work' of fighting against evil had been like pulling teeth. Joaquin saw a movement at the rear of the alley and held up a finger behind him to Constance. At the back of the alley was the demon they were looking for. It was just slightly humanoid with a brownish hue to its skin and small goat-like horns that protruded through a dark head of hair. "On my signal."

Constance bit her bottom lip. She knew this was a bad idea, no one even knew they were doing this. But Joaquin, was so persuasive and she was madly in love with the fool. Smiling she watched his raised hand drop for the signal and they hurried into the alley.

Both witches threw their vials at the demon, but it shimmered out of the way and Constance's vial shattered against the alley wall. Joaquin closed his eyes and a red haze formed as he astral projected himself in time to catch the vial he had thrown from the air. His physical body remained standing in place, head dipped forward against his chest. Constance spun around, looking for the demon.

It shimmered back in and turned, surprised to see two of the male witch. The vial was flung at the demon again from Joaquin's astral form and this time it hit. Resulting in a plume of flaming smoke on the demon's back. The demon snarled and grabbed the astral figure only for it to fizzle out in red haze as Joaquin lifted his head again.

"That didn't work quite as I planned," he said.

"Really?" Constance asked sarcastically.

"That vanquishing potion should have worked," he said, "Looks like we're going to have to fight him the old fashioned way."

Both of them fell into a defensive stance, as the demon snarled. It had extinguished the flames and now its eyes blazed in anger. The air practically crackled with the tension of the fight that was about to take place. The demon actually formed a fireball in its hand, and it was ready to throw it.

And then, in that tension filled air, the musical notes of some instrument carried through the air. They were soft lilting notes, quietly soothing and serene. They were barely heard but growing stronger, beckoning, summoning...

The two witches eyes glazed over and as one they turned away from the demon, following the musical sound in the air. The demon tilted its head to the side, puzzled and extinguished the fireball. Curious and confused it followed after the two entranced witches with narrowed eyes. The witches left the alley, continuing to follow the sound and the demon in turn followed them.

On an empty side street a man in a dusty leather jacket stood. The light glinted off of the source of the music as his fingers moved over the holes. A simple-looking, yet gilded flute that he played with an expert calling. He looked like one of the most normal and average men in his late twenties to early thirties that one might find on the streets. There was nothing remotely remarkable about him, save for that haunting tune that he was playing. The entranced witches both came to a stop in front of him and the strange piper played one long sharp note that didn't seem to fit the song he had been playing.

The musician lowered his instrument from his lips and pointed the end of it towards the witches. As it was directed at the witches a strange blue-green light was emitted from the end of the flute, enveloping the two witches. Clothed in the blue-green glow Joaquin and Constance both shrank before the confused demon's eyes. He remained standing, watching the odd scene, baffled as both of the witches transformed into children. The musician beckoned the children towards him and the fell into place just behind him, both still with glazed over eyes.

"Hey, those witches were mine..." the demon growled.

"Oh, no," the piper said, his lips turning up into a smile, "These witches are _mine_." He lifted one hand, still holding his flute in the other and formed a fireball. The fireball flew towards the demon and with a satisfying scream, the offending creature burst into a fiery vanquish. The musician looked towards the children, "Would you like to go somewhere and I'll play you more music?"

The nods of the children were rewarded by another series of notes from the flute. A ripple appeared in the air, forming into the opening of a cave. The piper marched over the thresh hold and into the darkness. The two child witches followed him, the cave closing behind them and the entrance rippled back out of sight. The street was empty once more until a female whitelighter orbed in, looking frantic.

She looked around, realizing she was too late and then looked up, orbing back out.

Opening Credits Roll

Theme song: "Gunslinger (Runnin' Out of Time)" - Over It

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	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Is this really necessary to say again? Actually, I think it is. This is a work of fiction, not created for any sort of profit. Jennifer (_strikermac_) and I don't own Charmed or any of the characters from the show. We just like to write about them.

**Author's Note**: Look at that… more to read! I've been crazily busy this last stretch of a while. Between the art show that I had (which was a big success) and now the approach of my _final_ final exams, I've somehow still managed to work with Jen on both our site, pitching the series to a Virtual Network, and writing some more. Oh, yes, and there was that whole month without my laptop when my Hard Drive crashed, but now I'm back in business and after this next weekend I'll have a lot more time on my hands to fill. I hope you all enjoy this, the third episode. Click the review button to let us know.

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**Destined: The Charmed Sons**

**Episode 1.3, Disrespect Your Elders**

Images show of Boston, clips of the city and the city life. A glorious sunrise that spreads its golden glow over the cityscape, making the windows in the high-rise buildings gleam like so many sparkling jewels. At last the images focus on an apartment building with Victorian architecture and balconies leading to fire escapes. Finally the images settle upon the Avalon Apartments, trailing up to the window of the Halliwell brother's apartment.

Song: Just Like You - Three Days Grace

**Chapter One**

A pair of blue-jean clad legs stuck out into the kitchen of the small, tidy apartment and sounds of banging could be heard from beneath. The sunlight was barely filtering in through the window over the sink as the sun rose outside. Wyatt yawned as he stepped out of his room, rubbing his eyes sleepily. The blond witch quirked a curious expression as he stepped around the island that separated the kitchen area from the living room in their apartment. He tilted his head to one side, intrigued, then reached into the fridge to pull out a carton of orange juice. Wyatt drank straight out of the container and put it back inside.

"Damn it," Chris cursed as another loud bang sounded from under the sink.

Wyatt walked over and crouched down, resting his arms on his knees as he looked under the sink, "Need some help under there?"

"I can do it!" Chris snapped.

"Yeah, and I can cook chicken cordon bleu," Wyatt said with a wry twist of his lips.

Chris gave a sharp jerk with the wrench that he had in his hand and suddenly there was water spraying everywhere. It blasted him in the face from the pipe that he had now managed to mangle even more. Chris jerked upright in an effort to get away from the water, but he failed to take into consideration that he was still under the sink. He cursed again as he hit his head. "OW!" He slid out, rubbing his head and wincing.

His shirt was soaked from the water, and his hair was now plastered to his head and dripped. Chris bore a grimace of pain on his face as he looked at the water spraying everywhere.

Wyatt rolled his eyes, "Here, give me that."

The older brother took the wrench from Chris's hand and traded places with him. He slipped under the sink, getting water sprayed all in his face as he tried to work.

"You know, I wish one of us had the power to freeze, like Mom. That would really come in handy right about now," Wyatt said. There were a few bangs underneath the sink and miraculously the water stopped. Wyatt had fixed the problem before Chris knew it and when the Twice Blessed witch slid back out from under the sink, he was grinning cockily.

"I could've done it," Chris muttered as he wrung some water from his shirt to form a puddle on the kitchen floor.

"Before or after you made an indoor swimming pool in our apartment?" Wyatt asked, gesturing to the water. Chris made a face at him and Wyatt merely twirled the wrench in his hand, smirking.

A ripple appeared in the living room area of the apartment while the two dripping Halliwells were looking at one another. A ripple, or rather, it was D.J. shimmering in. The half-manticore was smiling cheerfully as he made his entrance. "Hi-ho cheerios!" he said in random choice of greeting. That was when he saw the two residents of the apartment standing in their kitchenette staring at one another. D.J. Anderson crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his shaggy, brown-haired head and smirked wryly, "…whoa, okay, who decided to have the wet t-shirt contest and not invite me?"

Chris grabbed a towel from the drawer and wiped his face off. Wyatt nodded his head at D.J. "Hey Dee."

There was a jingling chime. A sound that had both of the brothers exchanging looks with one another before they turned their heads to the source of the sound. A funnel of blue and white lights was appearing just between them and D.J. Chris and Wyatt looked at the forming robed figure that was most definitely not their Aunt Paige or either of her twin daughters.

Wyatt saw Chris' hands ball up into fists immediately as the realization hit them both that this was one of the Elders. One of the Elders descended from Up There and Wyatt felt the tension radiating from Chris almost immediately through their link. Wyatt had to fight down the twist in his own stomach. They both had no love of the Elders, not after all that they had put their family through and until now they hadn't had any contact with them in years, not since... well... The plates in the drainer flew and smashed off the wall making D.J. take a step back.

Wyatt's hand tightened on the wrench he was still holding and he swallowed. He couldn't even make himself open his mouth to say something to Chris, his eyes were riveted on the Elder that had appeared in their apartment. D.J. was confused by the range of emotions he was sensing from the brothers even the Halliwell brother's posture had changed since the arrival of the robed figure. It was both confusing and intriguing to the half-manticore as he tilted his head to the side, watching the scene unfold like it was part of some Saturday matinee at the movie theatre.

The figure lifted his hands to pull back his hood, revealing the face of someone much younger than would probably have been expected. A dark-haired head and a calm, serious, though youthful, face. His name was Kevin and he had actually been an innocent that Wyatt and Chris' mother and Aunts had helped save. He still looked just as young as the day that the powers of an Elder had been passed on to him, but now there was a good degree more wisdom showing in his eyes. The Elder watched as a lamp flew past his head, but to his credit he never flinched as he looked at the younger Halliwell.

"No. Whatever it is, whatever you want from us, the answer is no," Chris said flatly. He threw the towel down on the counter and stormed out of the room, books flew off the shelf as he passed them. Piper had no love of the Elders. Chris? He hated them with a passion. The door to the younger Halliwell's room slammed as he ducked inside of it.

"Hear me out." Kevin said as he looked at Wyatt.

Wyatt looked like he was about to agree to at least listen to whatever the Elder had to say, but it was Chris who burst back into the room. He marched over to Kevin and stood in front of him, the slender witchlighter even managed to look intimidating, something that was typically reserved for Wyatt. Wyatt, though, was hanging back with a white-knuckled hand clutching onto the wrench he'd used to fix the sink. Chris jabbed a finger against Kevin's robed chest.

"No! We want nothing to do with you or your kind. I told you that four and a half years ago! How dare you come into our home after what you did." Chris was in his face and Kevin didn't bat an eye, understanding Chris' reaction. A whole shelf of glasses flew across the room and shattered as D.J. inched closer to Wyatt. Wyatt looked like he was going to be ill.

"I understand Chris," Kevin said calmly, "but we have come to ask for your help. Help in saving innocents."

"You and your little buddies should have thought about that before you kidnapped us and tortured my brother. It takes some nerve to come here after that!" Chris shouted hotly.

"Anyone care to fill me in?" D.J. was watching Chris with a mild fascination. This side of Chris was usually reserved for demons and Wyatt. Then he winced as the TV yet again took a nosedive. Wyatt didn't even move.

"They tortured my brother for their sick pleasure, said they were teaching us a lesson, and now need our help. Guess what? The answer is NO. Capital N capital O. Now go back and tell them that we're being bad Whitelighters. Tell them that I despise them and if innocents need saving, then they better come down from their lofty perches and save them." Chris looked at Wyatt who hadn't said a thing since Kevin arrived.

"Chris, I understand how you feel." Kevin said. Kevin braced himself for another outburst from Piper Halliwell's younger boy, but it didn't come. Chris was instead looking at his brother.

"Wy?" Chris was concerned; his brother had a death grip on the wrench and looked pale.

"We should hear them out." Wyatt said quietly.

"No! You cannot be serious, Wy, not after what they put us through. Are you forgetting what they did? Because I'm not. I remember every second of it. Every second." The phone flew and smashed against the wall as Wyatt sighed heavily.

"I, too remember every second Chris." Kevin said as he bowed his head. "I argued against it don't forget that. Please give me a chance to explain."

"Chris," Wyatt said, barely audible, "Let's hear what he has to say."

"I can't believe what I am hearing," Chris said. He looked at Wyatt and then turned his emerald eyes with an angry glare at Kevin. The young man's green eyes narrowed and without another word Chris stormed out of the room and slammed his bedroom door shut for the second time. This time the impact of the door knocked a picture off the wall.

------------------------------------Fade to Black----------------------------------------

Andrea Payton's desk was just as cluttered as always. The woman in question was sitting at it with the phone up to her ear. She gnawed absently on the end of her number two pencil as she listened. A yellow notepad sat in front of her covered with notes and doodles.

"So her room was just empty? Did you check her dad's?" Andrea asked the person on the other end of the line. "Jenny, calm down. I can't understand you. I can't help you if I can't understand you."

Jenny Gilmore was a friend and neighbor and she had called Andrea in an absolute panic. Apparently her eight-year-old daughter had decided to take it upon herself to run away some time between when Jenny had put her to bed and when the now panicked mother had gone to wake her for school. Andrea took her pencil from her mouth and wrote a few things down in response to her friend's words.

"Take some deep breaths, calm down and pull yourself together. Call Troy. She probably just went to see him. You told me last week that the separation hasn't been easy on her," Andrea said, remaining calm, "If she's not there then you can just call me bac---Oh. You called him already. Okay, um... friends? No."

A male clearing his throat behind Andrea caused her to turn in her seat. A rookie officer stood there holding a stack of papers. She held up a finger at him and resumed her conversation with her friend, or rather resumed writing down notes as her friend relayed information to her. Andrea made a few thoughtful sounds.

"Alright, Jenny, if you need someone, you have my cell phone. I'm going to look for her. Try not to worry too much, kids do this sort of thing all the time... she'll turn up," Andrea said, "You too. Bye."

Andrea hung up the phone and turned to the waiting rookie officer. She held a hand out towards him, gesturing for the papers. The rookie dropped them into her hands and she looked them over. It was a rather hefty stack of papers. Flipping quickly through them, Andy raised her eyebrows and looked up at the other cop. "I didn't ask for these," she said with a curious note in her voice.

"No, but your partner did. I can't find him anywhere, so I'm giving them to you," the young man said with a shrug of his shoulders.

The brunette woman wrinkled her nose, "Why would he want all this information on missing persons in New Orleans of all places? We're not working on any cases that have any relevance to this."

"Heck if I know Agent Scully," the young officer said with a wry smile, "Maybe instead of a coven of crazy people in Salem who think they're witches, he's got alien abductions for you this week."

Andrea narrowed her eyes at him and set the papers on her desk, "I'll take them."

The younger officer walked off and Andrea frowned towards her partner's empty desk before she picked up the top sheet from the stack. A photograph of Constance Rola was stamped with 'MISSING' above it, Andrea blew her hair out of her face and dropped it back onto the stack, looking from it to the notepad with the information on her friend's missing child.

------------------------------------Fade to Black----------------------------------------

Wyatt looked at Kevin in the silence that fell on the room after Chris' departure from it. Wordlessly, Wyatt knelt down and started picking up the pieces of glass from yet another of Chris' meltdowns. Then he looked up at Kevin and sighed.

"What did you want? Looks like if you need help, it's going to have to be just mine. Chris tends to hold a grudge." Wyatt said as he tried to stay calm. But it was hard considering the feelings of panic he was having, plus he was feeling the anger simmering through the link he shared with his brother.

"What are you talking about Wy? Chris could never hold a grudge." D.J. said as he grabbed a broom and dustpan. The whole thing genuinely confused D.J.. Torture? When had the Elders tortured either brother? Since when did the Elders torture anyone? Sure he had heard all the Halliwell's talk about the Elders at one time or another without any liking of them at all, except for maybe the boy's Aunt Paige, but this was a new one for him.

"Ah D.J., there has been a lot of talk about you up there." Kevin looked at the man with mild amusement.

"Really?" D.J. asked, sweeping shards of glass through the watery mess that was already on the floor, "Why would you guys talk about me?"

"Many of the Elders thought that you were evil and were going to lead Wyatt straight down the path to the dark forces," Kevin said simply.

That had Wyatt chuckling and had D.J.'s eyebrows shooting upwards.

"D.J. leading me astray?" Wyatt shook his head. "He's one of the least evil people I know next to Chris and my mom."

"That's what I always said." Kevin sat down on one of the barstools and looked at Wyatt. "There are many witches disappearing from around the country. Recently the activity has been focusing around the New Orleans area and just this morning... two more witches vanished. Their whitelighter came to us distraught when she couldn't find so much as a sign of them."

"Is it a demon?" Wyatt asked.

"No… not exactly…" Kevin said hesitantly.

"What do you mean?" Wyatt asked. D.J. was listening now too, leaning against the broom. Wyatt exchanged a look with him, and took a step towards the Elder, "It it's not a demon, what do Chris and I have to do with this?"

"We believe this to be the work of a renegade witch," the Elder offered, "If it is who we believe it to be… then you and your brother are the two best qualified for the job of stopping him. You're the most powerful witch of your generation, Wyatt, and the two of you have an ability other witches do not."

"We can orb," Wyatt sighed, "So you want me to go down to New Orleans and look for this witch?"

"I'd like you to stop good witches from disappearing, possibly from being killed," Kevin said, "I was merely sent to implore you to do this."

Only D.J. out of the three noticed that Chris had come back into the room in time to hear the last statement from Kevin. The younger Halliwell had a frown set onto his features as he leaned against the wall, listening. D.J. was still confused by the hostility coming from Chris and the apparent fear coming from Wyatt. Even Wyatt's voice lacked its usual confidence.

"Excuse me for interjecting," D.J. said, "But wouldn't a witch that's killing other witches be called a warlock?"

Kevin's lips quirked slightly in the first indication of a real emotion, "If the other witch is indeed killing them, then yes."

"I don't suppose you're going to tell us any more about what we're facing here?" Wyatt asked. When Kevin didn't answer, Wyatt raked a slightly shaking hand through his hair, "Didn't think so."

"Here's how this is going to work Kevin." Chris said his name with a sneer as he pushed off the wall he was leaning against. Wyatt looked over at his brother and Kevin turned, surprised to see him back in the room. Chris continued, "This is a one time gig. We won't do it again. Don't ask, don't jingle us, don't orb into our home, and don't contact my brother ever again."

"Chris..."

"Shut up Wyatt." Chris snapped. "I mean it. Leave Wyatt alone. Or I go to San Francisco and explain to my mother what you idiots did four years ago. And then I'll orb her Up There and stand smiling as she blasts every last one of you into dust."

"Chris!"

"Shut up Wyatt." Chris looked at Kevin. "If there is a life or death situation that only we can handle you come see me." He drew the last four words slowly.

"It's a deal Chris. I am sorry for what happened," he said, "So you two know the ones responsible were punished for their actions. The rest of us have been brought to task. We have learned much since our last encounter."

"You better hope so," Chris said somewhat darkly. He wasn't going to have innocents in danger because he had a grudge against the Elders, but he wasn't about to let them near his brother again without going through him first. All of that spoke volumes in the expression on the young man's face. Kevin bowed his head and was gone.

"What was that about? I'm quite capable of taking care of myself Chris," Wyatt said, already looking slightly more at ease now that Kevin was no longer present.

"No, not with this. I swear they contact you again and you don't tell me and I find out..." Chris walked into the closet to look through the Book of Shadows and slammed the door behind him.

"Wow." D.J. said as he looked toward the closet. "He wasn't even this mad when you..."

"Not the time Dee."

"You okay?" D.J. looked over at his friend who was still pale.

"I'm just great. Looks like it's back to the marketplace. I swear I'm going to buy plastic glasses and plates," Wyatt said softly. Wyatt looked over at the TV. "That's the fourth TV I've purchased since we moved in here. I don't care; I refuse to buy another one."

"Maybe you should buy a grandfather clock?" D.J. offered.

Wyatt gave D.J. a look, but the small joke was enough to ease off a bit more of his tension from the visitor from Up There. Wyatt looked towards the closet door. "Now I just have to figure out how to deal with my overprotective little brother."

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Chris Halliwell looked around the streets of New Orleans; there were way too many people out at barely seven o'clock in the morning. Wyatt was looking around as well, but he'd been quiet since Kevin had left the apartment a little less than forty minutes ago.

"I can't guarantee this is where we need to be. But this was the only place that good and evil were intersecting." Chris said as he looked at the small notepad in his hand, and then started toward an alley.

"Hey, can we talk about this whole Elder thing?" Just saying the word, Wyatt felt Chris' anger spike. "It's been years, I'm over it."

"Sure you are. That's why when he showed up you were doing everything in your power not to vomit. The link, Wy, is not going to allow you to lie, not about crap like that." Chris shook his head. "We're doing this for the innocents, not for them."

"I can take care of myself, I don't need you to shield me from them," Wyatt said.

"My entire life you've been trying to shield me from one thing or another, it's my turn. I swear to you Wyatt, if they contact you without my permission, I will..." He shook his head and headed off, not finishing that sentence.

"It was a nice threat telling him that you'll tell mom," Wyatt said, catching up with his brother.

"That wasn't a threat. That was a promise."

"Oh." Wyatt froze. He let Chris get ahead of him as he thought of his mom blowing up Elders with his baby brother smiling happily at it. The scary part was that he never doubted for a second that Chris would do it.

"They messed with the wrong witch." Chris said as he looked around the area. "What they put us through wasn't right Wyatt."

Wyatt looked away and then shook his head, trying to bring some clarity back. He could say all day that it didn't bother him any more and he was over it, but the fact was, it still haunted him. That day had unlocked a few repressed memories that he didn't even known he had. They were hazy, half-formed memories, before he really should have been able to cognitively recall things. Of a dark-haired man with an athame orbing him to the Underworld. Wyatt gave another shake of his head and caught up with his brother, asking, "So, where is this place?"

"Here." Chris stopped and looked around. The alleyway was deserted. "Now what?" Chris asked rhetorically. Wyatt touched the wall as he squatted down and went stiff. "Wy?"

The images flashed swiftly through Wyatt's mind, sharply in focus and all too real as the premonition drew him from the present into the future. Wyatt could see his brother on the ground, and a shiver ran through him. He couldn't tell if Chris was alive or not and that was far too close to what had happened just a few weeks ago for his comfort. Coming out of the premonition, Wyatt looked at his brother and shivered again.

"What did you see?" Chris asked.

"We should go." Wyatt went to grab his arm to orb them out, before Chris could argue, "I don't want a repeat of a few weeks ago."

"We didn't find the warlock," Chris pulled his arm away from his brother. He was going to say something more to Wyatt, but something in the air put both of them on alert. Wyatt lifted his hands, ready for an attack.

"I'm not sure I like this place, feels..." Wyatt turned to see the fireball coming straight at Chris and threw himself at his brother. Chris felt Wyatt tackle him like a linebacker and was ready to scream when everything went dark. "Chris? Chris!"

Wyatt pushed himself up off of his brother and felt for a pulse. Feeling one, strong and steady, he sighed with relief. His brother was fine. He just must have hit his head when Wyatt knocked him to the ground. Wyatt looked for the demon, staying close to Chris. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the shimmer of movement and waved his hand in the trademark gesture that his mother had perfected, sending the demon into a cloud of vanquished dust.

That was when he heard it, the lilting sound of a pipe. Tilting his head to the side, he stood up. Wyatt followed the sound, forgetting about Chris. He left his unconscious brother lying there. Walking forward, he saw the man playing the tune, he saw the bright light, and felt content as he walked closer and closer in a trance. Then the pipe player stopped and squatted down, extending a hand towards him.

Chris rubbed his head as he sat up. His ears were ringing from the impact of his brother and concrete. Looking around, he spotted his brother walking away from him and grimaced painfully as he pushed himself up. His green eyes widened as he watched Wyatt shrink and Chris looked around with confusion. Then he saw the figure crouching in front of Wyatt, in one hand he held a flute, the other was reaching for Wyatt, luring his brother.

Chris orbed to little Wyatt and grabbed him around the waist. He looked into the warlock's eyes and shuddered. Then before the warlock could react Chris orbed little Wyatt away. Leaving the warlock, without his prize.

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	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Is this really necessary to say again? Actually, I think it is. This is a work of fiction, not created for any sort of profit. Jennifer (_strikermac_) and I don't own Charmed or any of the characters from the show. We just like to write about them.

**Author's Note**: And, so now those of you reading here on _fanfiction_ are only a chapter behind those on the "Destined" site. I don't have a whole lot to say and besides I figure you'd probably rather just read the story anyway, right? Well, when you finish reading the chapter send some inspiration our way and write a review. Ciao!

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**Destined: The Charmed Sons**

**Episode 1.3, Disrespect Your Elders**

**Chapter Two**

Christopher Halliwell orbed back to the apartment holding onto the young blond boy that was his brother. Chris' heart was racing in his chest and his head was pounding a constant drumbeat from the hit he'd taken. His brother always had been good at tackling and it had been a solid two years since Chris had played football. Being hit by his older, larger brother without the benefit of padding had been understatedly unexpected. Being knocked to the cement hadn't been something he had been prepared for.

Chris had been even less prepared to wind up having his big brother turned into mini-Wyatt right in front of his eyes. He had acted out of instinct, grabbing him as he orbed the two of them away from the threat. Only, now Wyatt seemed to think it was Chris that was the threat.

"WARLOCK! MOM! A WARLOCK'S GOT ME!" Wyatt screamed at the top of his lungs as he shoved himself away from Chris and fell on the ground, wide-eyed. The little boy backpedaled as swiftly as he could, still on the ground.

"I'm not a warlock, I just saved you from the warlock!" Chris shouted.

"WARLOCK! WARLOCK! HELP!" the little blond screeched louder. Chris cringed at the volume of his brother's voice and the shrill nature of it in general. He held up a finger to his lips and hissed at Wyatt.

"Warlock's can't orb," Chris stated. Wyatt waved his hands at Chris, but nothing happened and Chris gave him a flat look, "Powers don't work on good witches Wy." He grabbed onto Wyatt's arm.

Wyatt tried again, still screaming bloody murder, "MOM!"

"Come on, Book of Shadows is calling us," Chris said, pulling at Wyatt, "And keep your voice down. I'm not a warlock; I'm your brother. Quit yelling for mom."

"My brother is three!" Wyatt proclaimed matter-of-factly, "You're not Chris!"

Chris ground his teeth together, "Great. Just great. You've reverted to the mind of a four-year-old. No Wyatt... _I'm_ Chris."

"Four-and-a-half! And Nuh-uh! What did you do to my brother? Where are my mom and dad? MOM!" Wyatt screamed. He orbed away from Chris and reappeared near the door. Standing on his tiptoes the little boy opened it and raced out into the hallway.

Chris cursed softly under his breath, "Come back here!" He raced out after Wyatt. The door to the apartment closed behind him as he darted after the little boy. Wyatt was almost to the stairs and by the time Chris got to him he was halfway down the first flight. The slender brunet caught him around the waist and carried him slung over his shoulder as he went back up, grumbling softly. Chris looked towards the sky, "This is all your fault."

"Put me down! OW! Let go of me!" the four-year-old blonde screamed, as he beat on Chris's back. Chris got to the top of the landing and put Wyatt down, but he still kept a firm grip on Wyatt's arm, gritting his teeth as his patience wore thin. The boy shouted again, "I'm telling Mom!"

"You're not telling Mom, she's in California. Quit screaming," Chris admonished, "Calm down long enough so I can try to figure out what happened."

"HELP, HELP! He's gonna kill me! HELP!"

"I will if you don't shut up, so don't tempt me," Chris ground his teeth together and juggled his keys out of his pocket as he continued to try to hold onto Wyatt. He got the door open and held it with his foot, then proceeded to try to drag Wyatt into the apartment. It was a task easier said than done, because his big brother who was now a forth of his age was fighting for all he was worth not to go into the apartment.

It was just the time that Chris didn't want to see their neighbor Samara poke her head out of her door. The young woman raised her eyebrows with a curious smile, "Everything okay out here?"

Wyatt was distracted for a second and Chris let go of his hand, causing the four-year-old to land on his butt in the hallway. Wyatt glared up at Chris with narrowed blue eyes. Chris flashed Samara a disarming smile, "Yeah... uh... everything's shiny. My... my cousin here is being a bit of a handful."

"I thought you said I was your brother," Wyatt said with narrowing eyes.

Chris shot him a dark look and mentally willed his brother to keep his mouth shut and play along, but if his brother really had been reverted to a pre-Kindergartner that was surely wishful thinking. He had heard all manner of stories about the terror his brother had been when he was little, and Chris had memories of his own from growing up with Wyatt that gave him all the experience he needed.

Samara stepped the rest of the way out of her apartment and bent over, resting her hands on her knees to look at Wyatt, "Hey there cutie."

Wyatt blushed and smiled up at Samara, "Hi. You have a nice smile."

Chris rolled his eyes. Wyatt beamed, still sitting on the floor where he'd fallen. Leave it to Chris's brother to be a flirt even as a four year old. How had Piper Halliwell ever dealt with raising them? Chris had been dealing with his 'little' big brother for fewer than fifteen minutes and he was already losing his patience. How had his mother survived the last twenty-two years?

Samara laughed, "Well aren't you a little charmer."

Wyatt canted his head to one side, smiling at their neighbor. "That's cause I'm a little Charmed," Wyatt said, clearly having further meaning beyond what their neighbor was implying. The little boy stood up, "I can do magic. Wanna see?"

Chris laughed nervously and stepped away from the door, reaching towards his brother. A bit too late, Wyatt reached behind his back and Chris saw him conjure a rose. Thankfully the boy did it behind his back. The red colored flower appeared in his hand and then he held it up to Samara, smiling bashfully. Inwardly Chris groaned.

Samara's eyebrows climbed and she took the rose with a surprised laugh, "A magician, huh?"

"No, I'm not a magician, I'm a wit--" Chris grabbed him and clamped a hand over his brother's mouth. He quickly recoiled his hand, "Gross! You just licked my hand!"

Little Wyatt's blue eyes sparkled and he looked up at Samara, "I'm a witch. I can do real magic."

"What's your name?" Samara asked him, still crouched down to the little boy's level.

Chris grabbed hold of his brother after he had wiped his hand off on his jeans, "Kids. Hah… He has a very vivid imagination," Chris said, "His name is Matthew and uh, we've gotta go. See you later Sam."

Samara smiled as she straightened back up, "You want your rose back?"

"Keep it," Chris said, dragging Wyatt into the apartment and closing the door behind them. As soon as the door was shut and locked, Wyatt proceeded to kick his brother in the shin and took off running around the apartment.

Chris growled, "OW! When I get my hands on you..."

------------------------------------Fade to Black----------------------------------------

About thirty minutes later and several tooth grinding moments, Chris had contemplated tying his brother up with duct tape and leaving him in the closet. He paced back and forth across the living room, listening to the ringing of the phone.

"Come on mom, pick up," he mumbled, "Answer the phone. Mom, Dad, somebody..." Chris had no idea where his parents were or what they could be doing. He sighed as the answering machine came on and raked a hand through his hair.

"Hey, Mom, it's Chris," Chris said, "Uh, hi Dad. Look, give me a call when you get this. I uh, need some advice on childcare."

Chris hung up and tried another number, this time he punched in the phone number for his Aunt Paige, but got her answering machine too. "Aunt Paige, Uncle Henry... I tried to call the Manor, but no one answered. Is there a P-three thing going on? I---" Chris stopped as he heard the phone pick up, he smiled slightly, "Hey Patty, screening calls? Is your mom or dad there? No? Work huh? And your mom? With my mom and Aunt Phoebe. Of course. One of those things, huh? Maybe when you're older they'll let you go with them, you're only eleven. Twelve next month, I know... I... hey Parvati, yeah it's Chris. Miss you too. OW!"

Chris looked sharply at Wyatt who had just tackled against his legs, "I want to play orb and seek!"

The younger (though currently older) witchlighter's green eyes flashed as he covered the mouthpiece on the phone. "I'm on the phone."

"I'm bored!" Chris pointed his finger at one of the barstools and Wyatt started to march towards it, grumbling the entire way. This was payback for every time Chris had aggravated his mother while she was on the phone and he knew it. He had just expected it to be several years from now with his own children, instead of so soon… with his pint-sized big brother.

Chris uncovered the phone, "Sorry, can you just tell my mom I'm trying to get in touch with her when they get back? Tha--OW!" Chris staggered against the wall this time and narrowed his eyes to look down and see Wyatt clinging to his ankles. He covered the mouthpiece with one hand and tried prying Wyatt off with the other hand, "I'm about this close to tying you up, gagging you and sticking you in the closet... knock it off you little brat!"

D.J. knocked on the door, opening it up and walking inside, "Hey, what's up... I tried to shimmer in and got blocked out... ended up shimmering into the laundry room. Everything okay? Did you guys cast some sort of spell or something?"

Wyatt saw his opportunity in the form of the open door and he immediately stopped fighting with Chris. The little boy made a break for the escape route. D.J. raised his eyebrows, still in the doorway as the kid blasted past him and took off running down the stairs. Without any clue what was going on, D.J. simply watched with puzzled interest.

"NO! Don't let him out of the--" Chris winced and uncovered the phone, "--sorry girls, gotta go." He hung up on his cousins quickly and ran out the door after Wyatt. In the process he also rushed past a bewildered D.J.

"Babysitting?" D.J. asked, prying himself from the doorway. He leaned out to stare after Chris.

"Brothersitting!" Chris called over his shoulder as he bounded down the stairs.

"Brother..." D.J. said slowly, following Chris.

"That was Wyatt," Chris said over his shoulder, "I cast a spell to keep him from orbing out of the apartment because he wanted to play orb and seek, guess it also kept you out."

"Wyatt?" D.J. asked, bewildered as he followed Chris down the stairs.

"Yes. The little guy that just ran away. Wyatt. Look, it's a long story. You remember earlier this morning? I blame the Elders. Just help me get him back in here..." Chris called as D.J. hurried after him. They both jogged quickly down the stairs, leaving the door to the apartment wide open.

------------------------------------Fade to Black----------------------------------------

The door to the Halliwell brother's apartment stood wide open. An open invitation for anyone to walk right in, be they friend or foe. Normal or magical. It was a welcome mat for any demon to step right across the thresh hold and invade the sanctuary of Chris and Wyatt's home.

Or, just as inviting… to suspiciously nosy and secretive neighbors.

Samara Hayley slipped out of her apartment on her way to take some photographs around town. She had taken the rose given to her by little Wyatt and had fixed it into her hair. The blonde woman had her hair pulled back away from her face and her honey colored eyes looked both directions down the hallway as she walked out. There was always something slightly on edge about her, cautious and wary. That had slipped away slightly earlier when she had been with the little boy. Now, she was back to carrying her air of mild paranoia.

She stepped into the hallway and shifted the camera bag she had slung over her shoulder. As she started towards the stairs, she noticed the door to the brother's apartment wide open and her brown eyes strayed to the opening. Samara turned to look towards the stairs, her eyes narrowed and she listened. With that same cautious air, the young woman stepped inside the brother's apartment.

"Hello? Chris? Wyatt?" she called out. She had seen Chris with his cousin out in the hallway about thirty minutes ago.

Hearing no answer she dropped her camera bag by the door and walked further inside. There were still broken pictures, the television broken and knocked over, and other signs of that morning's blow up at Kevin the Elder like the books knocked from the bookshelf. To someone who had just walked by, like Samara, it looked like a quick smash and grab robbery. Samara walked further into the apartment, small signs of an underlying confidence in her cautious demeanor were showing through. It was clear to her that the brothers weren't here, but there was the potential for whoever had caused the mess to still be there.

"Matthew?" Samara asked, "Chris?"

The lack of an answer emboldened her and she quickly crossed into the living room of the apartment, looking like a wholly different person. Her brown eyes moved quickly through the apartment, scanning the entire space for exits, means of entry and hiding places. In the same rote she took in the extent of the damage within with something of a morbid curiosity and suspicion. The woman's eyes swept the room for anything revealing and alighted on the notebooks and papers on the coffee table.

Samara scanned through some of the papers, picking them up. She moved aside a couple of medical textbooks and picked up a notebook, flipping through it.

Samara shook her head and dropped the book back onto the coffee table. She looked towards the doors to Wyatt and Chris' bedrooms thoughtfully, as well as at the storage closet door. They weren't open. If someone had robbed the place, they should be open too, shouldn't they? She pressed her lips together considering, and then, shaking her head, Samara went back to the door and grabbed her camera bag before she ducked back out to be on her way.

Samara closed the door behind her.

------------------------------------Fade to Black----------------------------------------

Wyatt Halliwell raced down the stairs and flung his hands at the door of the building, sprinting full force into the sunlight beyond. The busy streets and sidewalks drew him up short, but he shot a look over his shoulder at the building behind him. The little boy panted, out of breath, but he couldn't stop or Chris would get him. He didn't want to be tied up in a closet. Blue eyes darted up and down the street and Wyatt raced at a full sprint down the street.

He eyed the crosswalk and the people crossing, but bit his lip as he looked at the cars and figures. His mother had told him not to cross the street unless he was holding someone's hand, so instead, he turned the corner and continued to follow the sidewalk. He was running as quickly as his little legs would take him. Only a few people paused to look after the fleeing child, but no one really took any real trouble to stop him or find out what was going on with him.

Society is funny that way. It tends to turn a blind eye to things that it doesn't particularly want to see or take notice of. A lone child, running down a busy street in a hectic city like Boston… one would think someone out of all those masses would take notice and step outside their little bubbles to find out who he was and what was wrong… but not a single soul paid attention.

Not a single soul except another child, a girl maybe five years older than Wyatt himself was currently. She had just purchased a hotdog from a street vendor and seeing the running boy, she too took off running after him.

"Hey, wait up!" the girl called.

Wyatt looked over his shoulder and slowed enough for her to catch up.

"Who are you running from?" she asked.

"My brother's gonna kill me," Wyatt said.

"Come with me…"

Obediently and more than eager, Wyatt followed the little brunette girl. She couldn't have been more than nine-or-so, but she placed a hand on Wyatt's shoulder and the pair of them hurried off down the street together.

Chris and D.J. got to the crosswalk and stopped. Chris looked at D.J. and frowned, eyes on the crosswalk, then down the sidewalk to the right. He wasn't sure which way Wyatt could have gone. "Split up," Chris told D.J. The witchlighter crossed the crosswalk, while the light was red, dodging around cars and muttering apologies to the drivers who couldn't hear him. D.J. watched him nearly get run over and made a face, before he went the other way, tracking his now four-year-old best friend.

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